Scarlet Raven
by Kyra-sensei
Summary: Can you be so lost that you don't even know you are lost?


**Authors note: Surprise! I'm a batman fan! I love batman! I felt compelled to write this story, but still, if it isn't too great I sincerely apologise. I hope you guys enjoy, oh, and please review. **

**I don't own anything to do with batman, not even Son of Batman.**

**Chapter one**

**Reunion**

_'The loud clap of metal hitting metal sounded in the large, spacious garden. Sweat run down my forehead and I could feel my heart beat in my ears. Adrenalin pumped in my veins, pulsing through my blood and into my heart, giving me more strength and more speed thought impossible to gain. I was used to this feeling of power, this feeling of indestructibility. Of course, this was only a feeling. As the sharp blade made contact with my skin, it sliced open, spilling blood onto my black shirt and onto the fresh, green grass._

_The feeling of pain didn't come to me, the adrenalin wouldn't allow it, however it was hard to ignore the heat of the blood now running down my arms. I jumped back and pushed myself off of the wall behind me, hoisting myself into the air and performing a graceful flip.__Damien, however, had always been one of speed. One of natural, pure talent. I blocked his strike only a moment before his blade would slice open my skin yet again. He smiled an evil smile. I spun, shoving my sword toward him._

_"Enough." The voice called. It was the voice of a female. She had hot pink lips, dark long and wavy brunette hair that fell gracefully onto her back, her eyebrows were well groomed and darker than her hair, her eyelashes black and long, curling up. She shared the same light green eyes as Damien. She wore a black suit of one piece fitting tightly to her body with high heels and black gloves. She wore a weapons belt on her waist where it held a gun and her chest was not completely zipped up, showing much. She looked too young to have a child._

_We both stopped and turned toward her, bowing to show our respect. She was not our trainer, but we had seen her fight before. Her movements were precise and graceful, strong and elegant. She knew what she was doing. She was one of the best fighters at the institute - if you could call it that._

_"Lady Talia." I greeted, my head still bowed._

_"Mother." Damien greeted. She held no smile on her face as she looked down at us, her eyes serious. We straightened ourselves out and up at her, keeping our blades directed toward the ground, holding the hilt with both hands._

_"Damien come. We are leaving. We are off to the sanctuary in the mountains were your grandfather is." She stated, her voice serious. He gave a nod and placed his word back into its sheath. As I took a step forward, she looked down at me with frowning eyes._

_"You cannot take him." I argued. Her frown deepened._

_"This is none of your concern. You are not his mother nor will you ever be."_

_"Please lady Talia. Please do not take him." Her eyes softened slightly. She bent down and put her hand on my shoulder._

_"You do not understand little one. This is a matter of importance and it cannot be changed. Damien is coming with me." She straightened herself up as Damien went to stand by her side. I looked at him in disbelief but he didn't hold my gaze. When she turned to walk away, I didn't intervene. It was disrespectful enough that I argued with her. I watched as my best friend and his mother left me alone.'_

I opened my eyes, awake from the repetitious dream. Slowly sitting up, the silk sheets slipped from my silk covered torso. The sheets were black and thin, but appropriate to the warm weather outside. Silently, I removed my legs from the covers and placed them onto the cold, wooden floor beneath the bed. It was refreshing to my hot skin.

The room was spacious and black. Not only black, admittedly, but also white. At most silk, apart from the wood and the glass. The sun had not risen of yet, but I could tell that the day would be warm. The silk of my green shirt still allowed the feeling of the gentle caress that my long hair provided. The handle of the bathroom door was smooth and cool against the skin on my hands.

As I took off my clothes, I unconsciously became aware of the slight stiffness of my skin where scars found a home on my skin. Ignoring the fact that my skin was scarred, I got into the steaming shower and enjoyed the sensation of hot water falling onto my skin in two hundred little droplets.

Once finished, I didn't bother much with drying my hair; I only tied it up into a high pony and put on clothes suitable for training, all in black of course. The breeze was chilly, biting my nose like little pins. Uncaring as I was, I grabbed a sword, the same kind of sword I used to train with when I was younger. The same kind of sword I always train and fight with.

My movements were a lot more precise than from when I was younger. I was very young when I started trying, it was as natural for me as it is to walk or run. The memory of Damien came to me. We were only five, well I was five, he was six, when he was taken away from me by his mother. Well, it wasn't exactly fair for me to say that he was taken away from me when he was never mine. I shoved the thought from my mind and swung at an imaginary enemy.

As the sun began to peak above the horizon I placed the sword down and made my way to the large mansion walking into the kitchen. The first thing I saw was a muscular back turned to me, covered by the jacket of a tuxedo.

"Good morning Master Wayne." He turned to look at me with curious blue eyes and gave me a gentle smile. I bowed at him and sat down just as Alfred came into the room.

"Good morning Master Pennyworth." He looked surprised at my greeting, even though I had greeted him as such since I arrived at the Wayne Manor.

"I must apologise miss. I am not used to being referred to as 'master'. However, good morning to you too." He gave me a polite smile, one I returned and he gave me breakfast consisting of pancakes and orange juice.

"How many times to I have to remind you that you don't have to call me that?" Wayne asked me in politeness.

"Just as many times as I have reminded you that it would be disrespectful master Wayne." I replied.

"Right. I forget that you were raised in the League of Assassins." He muttered and took a sip of his water.

"No you do not." He returned my comment with a smile.

"You are indeed right." Just as he was about to take another sip, there was a loud knock at the door. Alfred excused himself to attend to the door.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Wayne asked me. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged. I suppose in his mind he was thinking "that's right, you never expect anyone" which of course would be completely true. Though the question was in vain, it also meant that Wayne wasn't expecting anyone either. I instinctively gripped the knife tighter in my hand as footsteps approached the door.

What happened next surprised me utterly. Alfred came into the room - expected - and held the door open for a young man. It didn't take me long at all to recognise him, I knew who he was immediately. I stood, partly from habit and because of surprise.

"Father." He greeted, his eyes first on Wayne, but his eyes drifted to me and his lips parted slightly, showing the proof of his own surprise, but then his mouth closed into a thin.

"Katherine." He said, his voice no longer childish and young, rather deep and masculine, much like his father's.

Bruce Wayne looked at me with questioning eyebrows, stood up and walked over to his stand by his son.

"Damien."

"You know each other?" Bruce asked, looking from me to him and him to me.

"Yes." His answer was plain. Knowing that Bruce wanted more of an explanation, I chose to speak up, not looking at him. My eyes, rather, focused on Damien.

"He and I trained together before he was transferred to the institute where his grandfather was." Bruce nodded in understanding.

"I suppose I should have expected you two to know each other."

"Yes, it's been thirteen years since we've last seen each other." Damien stated.

* * *

"You haven't changed a bit." We were now sitting around the table, Alfred doing the dishes, Bruce just sitting there and what seemed to be a staring competition between me and Damien. My eyebrow rose at his comment, finally breaking the awkward silence.

"I would not think so." I stated plainly.

"Really? You have the same British accent, the same long onyx hair, the same ocean blue eyes and the same tan. I must admit that your body however-"

"I do not think it is appropriate to speak of my body in any ways." I interrupted. He shrugged and took a sip from his apple juice.

"I was just going to say that your body had changed. Your features seemed to have stayed the same, other than the fact that your features have matured. You are no longer chubby and childish looking."

"I was never chubby." I argued.

"Your face was rounded though. Perhaps that in some way counts as chubby." I glared at him, but he didn't seem bothered.

"One would expect you'd be happy to see me." He stated.

"Yes, one would." I muttered and was quite thankful to Bruce when he spoke.

"Sorry to interrupt this ... Whatever it is reunion, but I am going to the office. Try not burn the house down. Alfred." The butler looked at his master as his name was called.

"Yes sir?"

"Keep an eye on them. Especially Damien. You know how he sneaks out."

"What makes you think Pennyworth can keep me here?" Damien protested.

"Nothing." Bruce answered, walking out of the room. Damien looked back at me and smiled the same evil smile he had when he was six.

"How about a battle, for old times sake?" He suggested.

"I will call the gardener right away; inform him that there will be no need for his services this month." Alfred stated and left the room. Damien rolled his eyes and got up, making his way outside. It had been years since I last fought with him, years since I got to experience his skill. Would it hurt to share a battle with him? Would it hurt to practise my skills with something other than air? Would it hurt to practise my skills with someone who had been taught to have the same skills?

I got up from my seat and followed him outside, picking up a sword as I went. As I walked, I removed the blade from its sheath, a look of determination in my eyes. His back was turned to me, he was holding his sword in his hand. I knew that he didn't need to look at me to be able to fight. He was really good, even when he was six. No doubt he'd gotten better over the years.

Of course I was right when I figured that he didn't need to see me to be able to fight me. He spun just as I came toward him, the blade slicing the air like a whistle. I brought my sword up effortlessly and heard the loud and familiar clap of metal against metal. He smiled the same evil smile. He swung at my again and again becoming faster and faster. There was no doubt that his incredible speed had increased.

Move upon move, strike upon strike, we moved through the garden like shadows, elegantly and gracefully flipping and moving, as light as silk, as a feather. We could have gone on for longer if not interrupted by a man, not Bruce. He wore a black suit sure, but it wasn't the Batman outfit, it was something else. His suit had blue on it in the shape of a bird. Nightwing. I've heard stories about him. He was Batman's first Robin until he moved on.

"Oh yippie." He said sarcastically. "You're back."

"Bruce Wayne is my father, if you hadn't known previously."

"It doesn't mean you have to show up." I had always found Nightwing attractive. He was young and muscular with blue eyes, not to mention tall and skilled. He turned to me and smiled his charming smile.

"It's always a pleasure to see you Katherine." He bowed at me, a bow at which I returned.

"I am flattered." I told him with a small smile. Damien rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Damien demanded. Nightwing looked at him and I could see his eyebrow raise from beneath his mask.

"Why else would I be here if not for Bruce? It's not like I came to enjoy your company."

"Your company isn't too great either."

"Well then the feeling is mutual."

"He isn't here. He's gone to his office." I interrupted. They both looked at me, Nightwing's expression softening but Damien's still staying hard. Greyson came toward me and smiled.

"Would you mind telling him I passed by? I'm probably be back later or maybe even bump into him on patrol, but would you mind telling him anyway?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you." His smile was gentle and sweet and he disappeared.

"What was that all about?" Damien asked. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Jealous are we?"

"Not at all, however I am wondering at what company you keep, especially if it concerns Dick."

"I keep company with you do I not?"

"That doesn't count. You and I haven't seen each other in a long time. Speaking of which, you have certainly improved." He told me, placing his sword back into its sheath.

"Yes well you are still the same big headed and stubborn boy I knew." As I walked, I put the sword down and went into the house. I found some aid for the injuries I had gotten, not major since it wasn't a fight till the death situation.

"Do you need my help Madam?" I heard Alfred ask. I looked up from where I was sitting on the kitchen table to find him looking concerned.

"No thank you. I'm doing fine."

"You don't often take my offers Madam. Please, let me help you." I looked into his eyes and it seemed that he had a genuine wish to help me. I sighed and nodded. I didn't watch as he came toward me, my eyes looking down at the needle in my hand.

"Did Master Damien introduce you to his fighting skills?" He asked me.

"Indeed he did. I am all right master Pennyworth."

"You know you have my permission to just call me Alfred." His eyes were soft and kind, they were a light colour. I could see my reflection in them. "I have been in the room many times when you've informed Master Bruce that it would be disrespectful. I understand that. However, it is different when the person is your friend." I looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Master Wayne is your friend and yet you still address him as such."

"Yes, but I am his butler as well as his friend. I do address him as Bruce at times but it is still my job to refer to him as Master. He is the master of the house."

"Why is it any different for me? He is the master of the house indeed and so I address him as master Wayne. You are my elder and as such I should address you with a respectable title." I explained. I could feel his steady hands passing the needle in and out of my skin, attaching thread when the needle had been.

"Of course, I do not disagree with that; perhaps the respectable title could be changed slightly."

"Do you have a problem with master?" I asked him.

"No, however it seems it bit formal. After all, we have known each other for a fair amount of time to be passed the formal stage."

"The formal stage?"

"The stage you have been taught by birth. Respect and formality. It is usually the stage had when addressing acquaintances or business partners or your elders."

"You are my elder though." He gave a slight chuckle and gave me a kind smile.

"Forget I said anything Madam." It didn't hurt much, the fact that the needle was moving in and out of my skin. I'd had stitches many times before this. I'd had stitches, casts, bandages, plasters, all sorts of things before. Now I had just another scar to add onto my arm.

"Don't you suppose Master Damien was being a bit harsh?" Alfred asked me.

"Not actually. Sword fighting injuries like cuts are very common, even if you know how to use the weapon."

"I see. One would expect such injury to come in battle, not in training."

"It is not expected when you are fighting someone lower than your rank, or when fighting air or trees. However, the opponent must still not be underestimated. A lot can happen regarding underestimation. I do not think that that is the point to this though." I explained calmly.

"It makes sense though." A few moments of silence passed before he moved onto the next cut on my leg. "May I ask you something Miss Katherine?"

"Of course."

"Where were you born?"

"In England. I went straight from England to the league of assassins in the mountains. I do not remember England. I was very young when I left. Younger than two years old."

"Is that so? Why is it that you left?"

"I am not sure Master Pennyworth. As I have previously said, I was very young." He nodded in understanding. What I had told him, admittedly, had not been entirely true. It was true that I had been very young, but I did know why I left, I just wasn't ready to speak to anyone about it just yet. Once he had finished with my injuries, he stood up and took the aid equipment away and left the kitchen. Making my way to my room, I admired the beauty of the large mansion. As I opened the door, I saw Damien standing by my bed. I narrowed my eyes and walked toward him without closing the door.

"Black and silk, it's very repetitious." He said, not looking at me.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded.

"This house, by birth right, belongs to me; therefore I can go anywhere I want." He stated simply.

"Have you never heard of common courtesy or privacy?" He looked at me, ignoring my question.

"Why are you here Katherine? How did my father find you?"

"It's quite the opposite actually."

"You found my father? How?"

"Getting into big enough trouble spikes the attention of the dark knight. You should know that." I stated, sitting down.

"Why did you want his attention?"

"Very inquisitive, aren't we? That's none of your business Damien, now get out." I told him, standing up again.

"Or what? You can't do anything to me Katherine." I glared at him.

"You are wrong."

"Whatever." He waved his hand dismissively and left. I locked the door behind him and sighed. I always thought that if I'd see him again I'd be happy to, but why wasn't I?

**Authors note: How was it guys? Let me know…**


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